Hermonie
by m1tt
Summary: hermonie is hurt and she needs help... warning Futa (G!P)
1. Read first

I'm not responsible for your childhood death


	2. Humiliation

**Gryffindor Tower, Girls Dorms**

The rain pounded the stone facade of the castle, slicking down the walls. The windows of the girls dorms were pounded as though they were about to break. It was a gloomy day as it was, yet for one Hogwarts student, it was only the beginning of the bad ahead.

It was the beginning of November and here she was, packing her things to leave. She was wearing street clothes, blue jeans and slightly snug Tee, her hair plastered in wisps against her sweaty brow. Flanking her bed were her roommates, as well as Ginny, making sure that nothing... funny happened. They offered no help. They only stood and glared, even Ginny. They were to ensure that packing was _all_ this freak did. Hermione herself could only outpour silent tears down her face.

With a loud clang of her trunk's clasp, the packing was finally done. Hermione wiped her brow with her forearm, the clamminess transferring quickly from one skin to the other. She heaved a large sigh as she placed her hands at her lower back and stretched.

"About time you finished," said Parvarti Patil.

Despite her fatigue, Hermione was able to manage a warning glance. "I don't recall you offering to help, Patil. Or any of you, for that matter. So, of course, it took a while."

"Maybe," replied Ginny. "Or maybe you were stalling." Her voice was cold, totally uncharacteristic of the kind Weasly girl that Hermione had known. "You were, weren't you?"

Hermione said nothing.

All stood silently as a team of house elves carried Hermione's things down to the Great Hall. A group of three of them had to work together and carried the trunk, laden with more books than anything else. Hermione began to follow, but was stopped by Parvarti's hand clenched around her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said as she slapped Hermione across the cheek. The blow came hard enough to cause Hermione to see stars, and possibly a few crescent moons. "Aren't you even going to say good-bye?"

She gave a small nod. Then the rest struck. Hermione quickly found herself pinned down inside one of the easy chairs in the common room. She had no idea how she had gotten there, but that didn't matter just now. She tried to stand but she could only struggle vainly. She looked down and saw that she was also tied down. She quickly looked around and saw that every girl in Gryffindor was in the room, 5th year and up. They all just watched her, looking on hungrily. Finally, Ginny stepped forth.

"What's going on? Ginny, what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?"

Ginny only smiled. Hermione was more scared than she had ever been in her life.

"This will be great!" said a girl in the thong.

"I'm getting hot already," said another.

Ginny walked over to Hermione and grabbed a rough handful of her hair. Pulling with all she had, it seemed, she pulled Hermione into a bruising kiss. She broke away and ripped Hermione's shirt from her body, exposing her ample tits. Smiling all the while, she feasted on them, suckling and nibbling the nipples and squeezing and biting the mounds. Her smile only broadened as Hermione's mouth outpoured a never-ending stream of protests and cries of cessation. But there was something else in those cries, something baser.

Ginny was licking and nipping her way down Hermione's torso when she felt it. Her hand had found Hermione's groin and a warm, pulsing hardness could be felt, even faintly seen beneath the fabric. Ginny gave it a hard squeeze, smiling as broadly as she ever had before.

She stepped back and quickly slipped out of her clothing. Within moments she was naked, her own ample bust accentuated by the firelight.

"Enough games," she said with a sinister chuckle. She drew her wand from her piled clothes and pointed it right at Hermione. "_ REDUCTO!" _she screamed at the top her lungs. With that, Hermione's clothes were obliterated. Hermione was left naked and squirming, chest heaving in fear. She was trying to hide something, the reason that she was being forced to leave Hogwarts, something that no amount of squirming and struggling would hide.

Now that she was naked, it was plain as day. There, between Hermione's legs, as an immense cock and balls. A closer inspection of the area would have revealed that she also had a vagina, just like the other girls, approximately half an inch below her massive organ. Many of these older girls had had more sex with more boys in the school than they would ever tell and consequently, were able to tell at a single glance just how big it was. Rock hard, quivering, it stood proudly at a full 12 inches. Precum was already beginning to emerge.

Ginny walked back to Hermione and knelt before her. "TIme for the fun to begin." She suddenly drew the cock into her mouth, drawing a cry from Hermione. She suckled her friend audibly and wetly, saliva very soon beginning to drip down her chin. Ginny played with the balls as she continued to suck and lick the organ. For ten minutes she sucked before moving down to the testicles, furiously stroking the dick as she sucked those. She could tell Hermione was close.

The time was now.

Ginny halted the blowjob and positioned herself over the cock. She could feel the crimson tip poking against her pussy lips. Very roughly, she clasped the cock in her right hand and rammed her pussy around it. Oh, it was glorious! The heat spread through her almost immediately, nearly making her come on the spot. But not yet. Barely recovering herself, she began bouncing upon the cock as fast as she was able. She mashed her lips into Hermione's for a kiss, she slapped Hermione's tits and squeezed and tantalized her own.

Without warning, both girls screamed as loud as humanly possible. Hermione's cock slipped out of Ginny's pussy at the last possible moment. Ginny's ground her pussy along the length of Hermione's organ, and it happened. Ginny came hard, pussy juices flowing and drenching Hermione even more than they already had. Hermione came as well, white gold shooting forth with a force to rival a 9mm handgun. Very quickly, Ginny's breasts were covered with cum, and still it came forth. After what was only four minutes, but seemed an eternity to here, Hermione had finally finished her load.

She opened her weary eyes and looked at Ginny. Ginny lay in the floor, body stretched out like a cat and face smiling. This girl, who had once been her friend, was completely covered in semen. And still, she only smiled that infernal smile.

The show over, cleaning spells were cast and Hermione's clothes restored. No longer were any signs that anything had ever happeneds. As Hermione made her way to the door, she turned and looked back. She saw each of the girls crowding around Ginny, each of them stealing a taste of the freak's cum, one by one. Hermione suddenly felt ill.

"Hey, Hermione!" The call was from Ginny. Hermione looked back, struggling not to cry. "Feel free to visit me at home whenever you like." She gave Hermione a cruel smile, which gave way to cackling.

Hermione ran out and never looked back.


	3. 2 weeks before

**Two weeks earlier**

The events leading to Hermione's transfer from Hogwarts and her subsequent assault still rang clear in her head. Oh, how she wished to erase that day! But not even a Time Turner could have repaired the damage done.

Hermione had been two months into her fifth year, already doing an exemplary job, as was expected of her. Slughorn's class had left her particularly drained, so she had decided to retreat to Moaning Myrtle's for a much needed respite, however brief; God knows she needed the break. She remembered that she had a few snacks with her and decided to make a sort of picnic out of it. Despite the idea of having only Myrtle for company, the thought of it made her smile.

"Myrtle?" Hermione called as she let herself in. "Are you here?" She heard no answer. Shrugging off Myrtle's absence, she sat herself down a corner of the bathroom and pulled out her food and a book to read, _Temporal Magic Theories._ She snacked and read, the book absorbing her completely. That is, until the inevitable happened.

As she read, thoughts of Ron began to invade her mind. The brightness of his smile made her heart pound, while his voice quickened her breath. Very quickly, her thoughts took her to places she had never imagined they would take her: the taste of his mouth on hers, the sting of him spanking her ass, him attacking her nipples. It was only when she fantasized having his juicy cock inside her that she noticed how far gone she was. Looking down, she saw a familiar lump under her skirt.

"Damn it," she muttered to herself. She quickly looked around, making sure there was no one else in the bathroom. Suddenly, to herself, "What the hell am I worried about? No one comes in here anyway." Nodding firmly, she went for it.

Hermione's hands snaked down and lift her skirt. Now visible, she saw her massive cock had pushed its way out of her panties and was now pinned lightly against her. She sensually caressed her fingers along its impressive length until she had it in both hands.

She began.

Slowly at first, Hermione began pumping her hands up and down the shaft, eliciting lusty moans from her panting mouth. She quickened her pace. She started squeezing, pushing her hips into every stroke now. Her moans became louder. Hermione ripped her shirt open and played with her right tit as she continued. She stroked faster and faster, she twisted and pinched her nipples. She eventually shot her other hand back below and locate her sopping wet pussy. She took a deep breath to steel herself before inserting two fingers into her slit. This made her scream briefly. Fast as she could, she stroked and fingered and squeezed and moaned.

She felt her feminine orgasm fast approaching. She felt it build and build until finally, like a taut piano wire, it snapped. Hermione yelled Ron's name as the feelings of electric pleasure washed over her body, eroding her down to a raw bundle of nerves. But it wasn't over yet. Almost immediately after, Hermione could feel the seed at the base of her dick. As quickly as she could, she stood and made her way into one of the stalls. She stroked furiously now. Her arms were starting to cramp but she didn't dare stop, or else she wouldn't achieve relief. Then, with a loud shriek, she came. White gold erupt from the tip, coat her hands and clothes. Still it came, now covering the toilet, the wall. Nearly five minutes had passed before the last droplets of come finally exited. Fell to her knees, sighing like a contented cat.

"Oh. My. God."

In spite of the reverie she was feeling, the sound of someone else in the bathroom almost instantly snapped Hermione back to reality. She turned about, forgetting that she was still partly erect, to see Ginny standing behind her with a grimly smirking Moaning Myrtle floating beside her.

"You see?" Myrtle hissed to Ginny. "It's just as I told you, Weasly; your girlfriend has a dick!"

Hermione's jaw hit the stone floor. Recently, she had developed a slight crush on Ginny as well as Ron, but it was not until this moment she had any idea that it was common knowledge.. She saw Ginny's face turn red, but her expression told Hermione that it wasn't embarrassment. "Ginny?" she asked. "I had no idea—"

"Why?" Ginny asked.

"Why, what?" replied a confused Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" Ginny demanded. "You didn't even tell any Gryffindors. You didn't tell **me**. Why, Hermione?"

Hermione could see tears beginning to form in Ginny's eyes. She knew that Ginny probably would like what she was about to say, but still she said, "Everyone has their secrets, Ginny; this is mine. I didn't tell anyone – didn't tell you – because I didn't want anyone to know. I was afraid of what might happen if anyone found out."

"Well," Ginny said, "it's out now, isn't it?" Ginny's voice seethed bitterness and anger.

Hermione couldn't speak from a sudden case of dry mouth. She took a few breaths and licked her lips before speaking. "So now that you know," she said, "what are you going to do?"

Ginny silently spelled Hermione clean and clothed. She turned on her heel and made her way out of the bathroom, Myrtle floating behind. She opened the door and turned back to Hermione.

"You'll see."


	4. The letter

Hermione lay upon her bed in her Finchley home, silent tears caressing her face, the pain of the memory burning even now. She hadn't exactly been friends with everyone in Hogwarts; she wasn't what one might call a social butterfly, after all. But she had been quite popular amongst the female students in Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, especially Ginny. And there were, of course, Harry and Ron.

The thought of Ron brought fresh tears to her face. She had been a fairly popular girl before this. Now, she reminded herself bitterly, she had no friends and no future to look forward to. She had been home only two days and had already considered suicide no less than ten times. She briefly realized that this might have been how Harry felt sometimes, alone, unable to relate to one's peers. But what was she to do? What?

The owl swooped silently through her window and startling Hermione as it perched on the footboard of her bed. It was a horn owl, gorgeous coloring and deep, sulfurous eyes. It was truly a beautiful animal. Hermione immediately recognized that the owl was a messenger. This owl, however, did not carry its message in its beak or even in its claws. Wrapped around its body, crossing down the breast towards the right wing, was a shimmering scarlet ribbon. The ribbon bore a copper wax seal, even with the owl's wing joint, emblazoned with a calligraphy of the letters "MS". The message was contained in a small tube that had its own copy of the seal, which was tied to the ribbon. Hermione took the message from the owl and petted its head before it flew away.

Hermione removed the letter and carefully unrolled it. She didn't understand why the owl had even come. The parchment was almost totally blank except for that same seal followed by simply:

**Thumb Seal**

_They went to a lot of trouble for some stupid riddle, _Hermione thought. _Whoever "they" are. _Not knowing what else to do, she placed her right thumb upon the seal. The seal felt warm, as though the wax had just been poured. Before Hermione's eyes, the entire parchment began to glow faintly silver. She continued watching as script appeared phantomlike. Every curve and whorl, every crest and trough illuminated in sparkling diamond light. As the message revealed itself, Hermione quickly realized that the seal had been spelled to recognize her thumbprint. But where could such magic have come from? Certainly not Hogwarts. And she seriously doubted that Durmstrang or even Beauxbaton's would teach such magic. This letter seemed only to produce more questions.

After a few minutes, the full message was finally legible. Though now finished, the letters still shimmered in their afterglow. The message read:

Dear Ms. Granger

You have hereby been accepted to Madame Saint-Claire's International School of Witchcraft. You are cordially invited to visit for a tour of the campus, led by myself. If you accept this invitation, please send a return owl with a response containing your requested time for the tour.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Madame Sofia Saint-Clair, Headmistress

Hermione was pacing about her living room. Three times in the past hour, she had looked over every photo and knickknack, every appliance, and dismissed it almost upon the moment it had registered. It had been two weeks now since she had received her acceptance letter. The letter had instructed her to send a return owl with a desired time for her tour; she had done that. Now here she was, two weeks later and not a single reply. Had the owl gotten lost? Was it some cruel prank from what passed as her enemies left at Hogwarts? What could be taking so long?

Hermione's answer came in the form of a bright yellowish light bursting from the fireplace. The force of the blast knocked Hermione into a light blue recliner that faced the fireplace. Smoke filled the room, making Hermione cough loudly. Once she stopped coughing and could keep her eyes open she finally noticed the person standing before her.

A woman Hermione had never seen before had appeared. She looked to be approximately in her thirties. Her skin was lightly tanned, an almost imperceptible beauty mark in the center of her left jaw. She was wearing a dark dress, almost black and shimmering lightly in the light. Her sleeves almost appeared to have been painted on, constricting along her arms until about the middle forearm, and descending into long cuffs. Her fingernails had actually been painted to coordinate with her clothes. Her hair was a fiery red; it must have been incredibly long, Hermione surmised for she saw this woman's hair was tied into three separate ponytails when she finally turned. The eyes were an almost dull brown, accentuating her hair like the singings of a flame.

_"Bonjour, mademoiselle," _the woman said. Her French was impeccable, her voice practically musical. _"Je m'appelle Madame Sofia Saint-Clair."_

Though Hermione couldn't understand what this woman was saying, she surmised from the last that she must have been introducing herself. She had to get this woman to speak the King's if any conversation was to be had.

_"Je…desole…" _Hermione tried in broken French. _"Parlez-vous anglaise?"_

The woman nodded with a light smile. "Yes, I do. Quite well, in fact."

Hermione sighed with noticeable relief. "Oh, thank heavens," She said. "I'm sorry but that was about the extent of my French. Would I be right in assuming you were introducing yourself?"

_"Oui," _she said. "I am Madame Sofia Saint-Clair, Headmistress of Madame Saint-Clair's International School of Witchcraft. I am here to guide you on your tour of the school."

Hermione now felt rather embarrassed. She remembered the letter had said that the headmistress herself would be leading the tour but she certainly wasn't expecting to have her come directly to her house via flue powder. Hermione suddenly wanted to disappear out her shame. "I hate asking silly questions, professor, but how are we getting there?"

Madame Saint-Clair chuckled lightly at this. "Why, flue powder of course. You can't get there by train, and if you went by boat or even plane, the school year would be over by the time you got there." She held out a small jar of the flue powder. But this looked different from any flue powders that Hermione had ever seen. Usually, the powder looked like ash, as if it had been swept straight from the fireplace a moment before. This powder, however was colored a very pale yellow. Madame Saint-Clair offered the jar to Hermione, taking a handful just as Hermione did.

Madame Saint-Clair stepped backwards into the fireplace as she tucked the jar away into an unseen fold of her clothing._"Suivez moi," _she said to Hermione. After noticing another confused look on Hermione's face, "After me." She closed her eyes and shouted "To the school!" Madame Saint-Clair threw down her flue powder and the same yellowish flames enveloped her and whisked her away.

_Strange, _Hermione thought. _I thought you had to say specifically where you wanted to go when travelling by Flue Powder._Resigning herself to go out on a bit of faith, Hermione stepped into her fireplace. She raised up her fist, preparing to throw down the powder and speed off to wherever it would take her. At the last second a small dust cloud puffed from her hand and into Hermione's face, triggering the beginnings of a sneeze. When it came, it hurt enough to cause a headache. Once the sneeze had abated and Hermione had removed her hands from her mouth, she saw that her powder was gone. She saw it just moments before it struck the hearth beneath her. With that familiar sensation of a hook behind the navel and the flash of the yellow flames she was gone.


	5. Guided tour

It was upon a crash landing that Hermione opened her eyes. Coughing, sore, she stood and tried to get her bearings. She could see the fireplace that had spewed her forth, ornately carved with lifelike stone female centaurs flanking the flames within. Above the fireplace was a portrait of Madame Saint-Clair in a dress with a matching brooch; both were midnight blue. Hermione would have continued taking in her surroundings, except for the loud "Ahem!" that now grabbed her attention.

Hermione turned and felt her jaw drop. Before her(Or would it be that she was before them?)was a class of twenty-five witches. It barely registered that they ranged in race, in age; Hermione was having enough trouble coming to grips with where she had landed. The only small comfort Hermione found was that these girls appeared to be just as shocked as Hermione herself. All, that is, except for their teacher.

She was fair skinned, hair the color of rust. She was slender but by no means skinny. Her skin seemed to have a sheen to it, as though someone had rubbed her down with a polishing rag. Her intense green eyes flash with surprise at first, but this soon gave way to irritation.

"Just what it this aboot, then?" the teacher asked.

Hermione wasn't sure what she had just heard. "I'm sorry," she said. "What did you say?"

"I said, what is this aboot?" she said again, flaring.

"What this is _about_," Hermione said, mockingly correcting someone that, too late, she realized might be one of her teachers, "is that I'm supposed to be on a tour of the school with the Headmistress, but I think I'm lost."

"Indeed." The teacher approached, stopping with only a foot between them. "You can take comfort in knowing that this happens all of our new students. I'll call for the Headmistress and you can be on your way." She quickly turned and sent one of the students out the door; she then turned her gaze back on Hermione. "What is your name, girl?"

Hermione wasn't sure she liked where this was going, but answered anyway. "Hermione Granger, Professor—" was all she got before the woman's shrill laugh cut her off. She quietly waited for the teacher to stop before finishing, "—Of Sussex, England."

"Yes, well, Hermione," the teacher said, "This isn't England, and I'm no professor. You may call me Ms. Erikson. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I do not tolerate petulance out of any student, but I especially don't appreciate a new student making fun of my accent. I suggest that you think twice the next time such an idea should enter your head." Her eyes narrowed and her voice grew cold as she finally said, "Are we clear, Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, Ma'am." was Hermione's reply.

"Already making quite a first impression, I hear," Madame Saint-Clair mused as she and Hermione entered her office. It had taken fifteen minutes for them to make the journey and in that time, Hermione had told her everything that had transpired in Ms. Erikson's classroom. Her face was beet red, even now. The Headmistress could only smile. "What she said is true; this sort of thing really does happen to all of our new students. But I think this is the first time that one has had a run-in with a teacher before she was officially a student here. Congratulations, Hermione, you have set a school record."

"I'm so embarrassed, Professor," Hermione groaned.

Madame Saint-Clair paced slowly about the office as she spoke again. "Do not worry about it, Hermione. Worse things have happened." She stopped at a mirror to check her makeup, but moved on as it was fine. "Besides," she said, "it's time for your tour."

Hermione felt excitement at this, until a dread suddenly hit her. "What happens after the tour is over?" she hesitantly asked.

The Headmistress' reply surprised Hermione. "That is up to you, _Cherie._ You will go home once the tour is concluded, and find another school to attend. Or, should you decide that you do want to be here, we can move you in immediately; we will even send house elves to pick up your belongings.

"Now then, let's go."

The tour was fantastic. Every hall seemed to have its own rich history(the Transfiguration wing had once been the site of a major battle against Morgan Le Fey, while the Herbology wing was rumored to have been drafted by Merlin himself.) In addition to learning about the history and the quirks of the school, Hermione was already learning a few things about some of her teachers. For example, Ms. Erikson, as it turned out, really was a professor but didn't like to be addressed so; incidentally, Hermione discovered that the reason she had had trouble understanding her through her accent was that the woman was Canadian.

But of everything on the tour, the best part was the student body. Everywhere Hermione looked, girls her own age as far as the eye could see. British, French, German, American—even some female centaurs and satyrs were going to and from class; one of the satyrs even came over and said hello(she had introduced herself Lila.) before running off again.

Hermione didn't need to think this over for even a second. As of this moment, she was now a student at the International School of Witchcraft.


	6. Holly

So far, the afternoon had been a very busy one for Hermione. It wasn't, however, over just yet; Madame Saint-Clair still had to assign Hermione to a dormitory, and then there was the matter of moving in.

"How exactly is housing handled here, Headmistress?" she asked once they had returned to Saint-Clair's office.

"It's fairly straightforward, I should think," she said as she consulted a clipboard. "Every student shares a dormitory with three other girls, though there have been less in each dorm in the past, and sometimes more. More than anything, it depends on how many students there are.

"Each dormitory has a advisor that presides over the entire floor. They perform weekly inspections of the dorms, checking for things such as cleanliness, dorm morale. They also are there to help you with anything you may need; if they feel they are unable to help you, you will be sent to me.

"Dorm assignments can be tricky things, especially for students acquired at the last minute. Although, seeing as how the school year hasn't officially started yet, I'm sure we can find you somewhere to stay."

Hermione wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "Wait, Professor. How is it that the school year hasn't started yet? I mean, I was already a few months in when I left Hogwarts and it's almost November. What about when I landed in-?"

Madame Saint-Clair chuckled at Hermione's questions. "We are different from other magic schools, Hermione. We are what is known as a magnet school; all of our students are recruited, not enrolled. We function on a different level than the other schools and, consequently, the school is run on a different sort of schedule." Madame Saint-Clair couldn't help allowing herself a small smile as she thought of her Canadian professor's earlier incident as she finally said, "As for the professor you…'accosted' earlier, always holds a small get-together right before the school year starts."

Hermione listened and watched her new headmistress explain and smile as she reached the end. In fact, Hermione couldn't help but smile herself; it really was rather funny. Getting back to business, Hermione asked, "Who will I be sharing by dorm with?"

"I do not know them personally, _chere_, or not yet, at least. It being the beginning of the year, I'm not going to know all of my students by name just yet. However, I do try to make it a point to try and get to know my students during their time here.

"But as for your dorm, I just found one for you; the only one left that had any space, it would seem. Room 2501." Madame Saint-Clair gave the clipboard a quizzical look, only saying, "Perhaps you will have a centaur as your roommate."

Hermione stood staring at her luggage with a feeling of helplessness. She had already foregone wondering how it had gotten there(this was the wizarding world, after all.) and was now trying to wait for the solution for moving it to present itself.

She didn't wait long.

"Do you need some help?" a voice behind Hermione said. Despite the initial shock, Hermione could tell that it was an American speaking, a resident of the South, it sounded like.

Hermione squeaked in surprise but quickly regained composure and turned. She had certainly expected an American, but she was also expecting someone human. Well, totally human anyway.

Before Hermione stood a pretty redhead not much taller than Hermione herself. She was wearing a red Lynard Skynard t-shirt and a denim skirt. She had hair down her back, emerald green eyes that almost seemed to sparkle, faint freckling on her cheeks and very small horns at her hairline. A quick look at the girl's legs confirmed what Hermione had already surmised: this girl was a satyr. Her goat legs weren't what Hermione would have expected, though; the fur was a pale brown and very soft and smooth like velvet.

Hermione was speechless. "D'ya hear me?" she asked, her Southern twang more prominent this time.

Hermione had finally come enough to her senses to speak again. "Yes, I heard you. Sorry about that; I didn't think I would find myself talking to a—" She wasn't quite sure how to phrase it without insulting the girl.

"A southern-fried satyr?" the girl asked, laughing. "Girl, just 'cuz we're in Greek myths, doesn't mean we have to be Greek; Centaurs, neither, for that matter." She didn't saying anything but she could tell this newcomer was very relieved that she had taken it so well. "My name's Holly; what's your's?

"Hermione." Whether it was Holly's humor or her accent, Hermione didn't know, but she knew that she and Holly were already becoming friends. "I'm so glad that got the awkward parts out of the way."

"Shee-oot!" Holly whooped. "Nothin' awkward about being in a new school. They got me just last month, but this is the first day here for everyone. Now, if I had to guess, you need help moving your stuff up to your room."

"Yes, Holly, I do. Would you mind?"

"You know, you sounded mighty sheepish just then." Holly waited while Hermione realized what she had just said. They both burst into laughter. "But hell no, Hermione. Just tell me your room number."

"2501," she said.

"Really?" Holly asked. "That's perfect! That's my room; looks like you and me are ahead of the curve the others." Holly sauntered over to Hermione's luggage and proceeded to bend down and pick up the majority, until Hermione herself was left to carry only a small suitcase and a duffel.

Hermione's eyes froze on Holly's rear as she was bending over. Her skirt had lifted just enough to see her panties; a brilliant scarlet that matched her shirt. She could also tell, being human herself and therefore guilty of such a thing, that Holly's groin had been shaved recently, showing total disregard to the fact that that part of her was goat. Hermione had never once even thought about any animal in that way but something about the way her bottom moved sent a stirring through her cock. She stared guiltlessly, until the hardening of her own dick snapped her back to reality; she prayed a silent, fervent prayer that no one had been watching.

Hermione picked up the last of her things just as Holly asked, "Ready to go?". Hermione just nodded. The found the stairway and up they went. Holly was the first to ascend, putting Hermione behind her, and Holly's bottom directly in Hermione's eye line. Hermione's eyes remained locked on that fine ass in front of her, but she somehow managed to not to have any accidents along the way.

As she ogled away, a though suddenly occurred to Hermione: It had looked as though there something else under Holly's skirt; something that shouldn't be there. But that was just insane. That couldn't possibly be it. Could it?

Hermione was surprised to see that the dorm was very much like being in Gryffindor tower. The living area, which featured a portrait of Madame Saint-Clair above the fireplace, and the kitchen were more modern, of course, but the beds almost looked like exact replicas of those in Hogwarts.

"It's not that bad," Holly said appraisingly. When they got to the bedrooms, she elbowed Hermione saying, "Those beds look like they'd be great for sex. Wanna take a test drive?". She winked and laughed as she said the last. Hermione tried to laugh but she didn't think it sounded very convincing. "Well," Holly said at last, "let's get you unpacked."

"Sounds good," was all Hermione could barely choke out.

They worked for hours, both of them unpacking, Hermione directing while Holly arranged everything. They broke into a sweat quickly as it had been rather warm in the bedroom Mostly due to her embarrassment in the stairwell, Hermione put away her clothes herself. By some miracle, they had managed to get everything put away.

And the best part, in Hermione's opinion: There hadn't been even a single twitch in her cock.

Once they were sure they were finished, both fell back onto Hermione's bed. They just laid there, eyes closed, saying nothing as the sweat began to cool and turn clammy. Hermione, herself, was sure that she could fall asleep right then.

Finally, she spoke. "Thanks for your help, Holly," she sighed.

"No prob, Hermione. I bet you would have done the same thing for me."

Hermione didn't answer but she realized she didn't have to; yes, she would have helped Holly as she had helped. "You know what, Holly?" she finally asked.

"What's that?"

"I'm glad I met you," said Hermione. "If it hadn't been for you, I'd probably still be unpacking. Not to mention, you're my first friend in this place. That means a lot to me."

Holly said nothing at first, taking Hermione's hand in her own. "Me, too, babe. Me, too."

The girls then looked each other in the eyes. Holly touched light fingertips to Hermione's cheek. Hermione began to speak but was stopped by Holly's lips upon her own. It wasn't a fierce kiss, but light, loving, as all first kisses are envisioned but rarely are. Hermione was startled at first, but soon closed her eyes and returned it.

"Hermione?" Holly asked, her voice possessed with a light huskiness.

"Yeah?" Hermione's own voice mimicked Holly's almost perfectly.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"What it is?" Hermione asked.

"I like you. I mean, _like you_. It was as soon as I laid eyes on you; your hair, your eyes, your beautiful lips. It drove me wild, ya know? I—I think I love you." Holly put a finger against Hermione's lips when she tried to speak. "Just hear me out. You might think it's silly to hear that from someone you've just met. But we satyrs are nature spirits; we're more in tune with our emotions than people are. And I just know that there's something between us.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but would you go out with me?"

Hermione looked at Holly before shifting her gaze downward. She said nothing. Small tears began to flow.

"Before you answer," Holly said, "there's something else you need to know. I mean, if you do decide to date me, you're gonna find out anyway." Holly sat herself up and stood up. She pulled a wand out of her skirt pocket as she took a few steps back. "I'm different from other girls, Hermione."

_I thought we already covered that, _thought Hermione rather naively.

Holly took her wand and pointed it directly at herself. "_Finite incantatem," _she said. There was a small glow at the wand tip which vanished immediately. As she quickly put her wand away, a very noticeable bulge was forming at Holly's groin.

Even before Holly stripped of her panties and lifted her skirt, a very shocked Hermione could tell what it was: a penis rivaling her own; it was even human. Holly was just like her.

"Cat's out of the bag," Holly said. "I just wanted to make sure you knew what you would be getting into. Oh my god! You must think I'm a freak! I mean, I even made you cry."

Holly started to cover herself, but stopped when she heard Hermione's voice.

"_Bombarda minimus,_" Hermione said. With that, the clasp of her jeans ceased to hold, causing them to fall. Hermione watched Holly's reaction to seeing her own prick within its cotton prison, the head barely poking out.

Both girls had bared their darkest secret to each other. Both were fully erect. Both were silent.

Finally, Hermione spoke. "You're wrong, Holly. I don't think you're a freak because I'm just like you. I've been like this for as long as I can remember. And you didn't make me cry because I thought you a freak; I cried because you're the first girl in years that was willing to be my friend. Any girls I've ever been friends with, the friendship effectually died once they found out about me." She walked to Holly and pulled her into a deep kiss. Once it was broken, "And yes, I will go out with you," was all Hermione said.

Without another word, Holly quickly dropped to her knees. Before any questions could be asked, she pulled Hermione's underwear down and began feeding on Hermione's cock as though there had been a famine.

Hermione moaned loudly, almost screamed. Never had she imagined that a girl's mouth could feel so good. She managed to regain enough composure to cast a soundproofing spell on the bedroom before losing herself once again.

"Oh my god," Holly moaned between suckling. "Your cock is fucking delicious, Hermione." Holly went deeper, her tongue probing and hugging every inch of the cock. It was the most absolutely glorious feeling Hermione had ever felt. She couldn't take it anymore; she needed, wanted more.

It was at that moment that it occurred to Hermione to try something she had heard boys at Hogwarts talk about all the time. She first laced her fingers through Holly's crimson hair and manually guided her mouth. In doing this, she discovered that it not only allowed her to penetrate Holly's mouth further, but was also a turn-on for Holly herself, if her amplified moans were anything to go by. Suddenly, Hermione held tight Holly's hair and thrust her cock as far down Holly's mouth as it would go; only a single inch of Hermione's massive dick remained visible.

Holly's eyes widened. A small choking noise could be heard. She started coughing as Hermione pulled out completely. "Wow," she finally said after catching her breath. "I didn't think you'd be into deep-throat."

"Me, neither," Hermione replied.

"Well, then," came Holly's retort, "don't stop on my account."

With that, Hermione grabbed tight handfuls of Holly's hair and resumed her assault. Guttural groans came from Hermione as she fucked Holly's face; her mouth felt amazing, and her throat only made it better. She stopped long enough to pull Holly's shirt off, then she rammed her cock back in while she squeezed Holly's tits. Holly's moans combined with her mouth, finally sent Hermione over the edge. With one last thrust, Hermione orgasm shot massive loads of cum into Holly's mouth and down her throat. Even so, it came dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Hermione drew out of her mouth, still cumming, shooting the remainder of her considerable load onto Holly's mouth and tits. When she finally finished, Hermione fell back on her bed, drained.

Holly wasted no time in returning the favor. She found the pussy beneath Hermione's massive dick and shot her fingers inside. Hermione almost screamed at the penetration. Holly's hand pumped furiously, forcing pussy juices out of Hermione and coating her fingers. With her free hand, she alternated playing with Hermione's breasts and nipples with viciously stroking her cock. A predatory smile appeared on Holly's face as Hermione begged for her cock. Holly was all too happy to oblige.

She continued pumping Hermione's dick as she opened her legs and grabbed he own dick and got into position. She nudged the tip against Hermione's pussy, making her moan again. Without warning, Holly rammed into Hermione all the way to the hilt. Hermione's scream was nearly enough to end Holly then and there, but she held on. She started to pump her hips, slow at first, slowly gaining speed. Within minutes, Holly was pumping as hard and fast as she could. The sound of pounding flesh filled the bedroom. The tits of both girls shook violently as they fucked. They moaned and cried and screamed in ecstasy and lust.

Holly couldn't hold back any longer. She gave a few more hard thrusts before pulling out, stroking her cock with both hands at breakneck speed. It was almost painful for her as her load reached the tip. With one forceful squeeze from within, it all came pouring out. It splattered Hermione's stomach, her tits, her face. Even her ass was covered in Holly's cum.

When it was all over, Holly crawled over, with considerable effort, and laid next to Hermione. Despite the mess they were, the girls held each other. They kissed deeply, whispering to each other incomprehensible things, but neither cared what had been said; they had each other. After a quick bout of cleaning spells, they pulled the blankets over them and wrapped their arms around each other.

They still had tomorrow before the school year officially started. The rest of the unpacking could wait.


End file.
